Anything
by Azalee
Summary: manga chapter 124—125 spoilerfulllikewoah - Sorry, he says. Right. 2 : Shut up.
1. Chapter 1

So. I just read chapter 124, and I can't really tell wether I love or hate it with all my heart.

So I wrote something. As in, I finished it two minutes ago. And I don't know why, but the words came to me in English, so here you go.

English's not my mother language, so please, do tell me if there's any grammar or spelling mistakes, okay ?

And just in case someone missed it, **BIG SPOILERS AHEAD, DON'T READ IF YOU HAVEN'T READ UP TO CHAPTER 124 YET. CHAPTER 123 ISN'T ENOUGH, READ 124 BEFORE. I'm serious.**

And, of course, there's some swearing.

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They laid him down on one of the only beds of the building. His blood is dark on the bandages, but his face is white, whiter than usual, whiter than snow, whiter than any face should be. And he's shaking, his shoulders, his hands, his legs, his whole body is violently trembling. His fingers twitch like they don't know whether to press flat on the bed sheets, tense and still, or to grasp a handful of the dirty fabric, curl into tight fists and punch the hard mattress.

You're having a hard time stopping yourself from doing just that. Punch.

Punch the mattress, punch the wall, punch the floor, punch all those people looking at him with sorry faces, punch the boy except he's gone now, punch the damn witch, punch _him, stupid him._ Scream and shout and howl and punch everything, break something, kill something.

Hit him so he wakes up and looks at you with the eye that's left, if there's _anything _left to him.

Hit him until he asks you to stop, even though you know he _won't_. _Stupid._

The doctor is looking at you when she speaks, you know, but you don't look back. You hear what she says and you wish you didn't.

The manjuu is crying, crying, crying, and it just feels so weird that it's the only one to do so. It cries, begs, prays, but before the witch can say a word his voice stops her.

It's different, his voice. Quiet, weak, labored, like it hurts him just to speak (and you know that even if it does, it's not going to stop him from speaking). All the joy, all the laugh, all the energy, all the carelessness, it's all gone. You know it was always faked, but now it's _gone_, and it just sounds so different.

He is going to die, you realize with a start.

Like _hell._

The manjuu cries some more, screams when you grab him, but _he_ says nothing. He just looks at you, with his only eye that's left — except _nothing_'s left, inside. It's empty, hollow, void — even more so than the _other one_. You want to punch him, and he _fucking smiles._

Sorry, he says. Right. Sorry he's dying. Or sorry you can't do anything, is it ? Sorry you can never do anything when people die. Sorry you could never protect him when he didn't — sorry he _did _protect himself this once, because you couldn't, sorry it just wasn't _enough_.

He doesn't want to die, you know ; he never wanted to.

He just wants to _let himself _die. He wants _you_ to let him die, and there's no_ fucking way in hell _you're just going to sit back and watch while he's _dying._

He closes his eyes — no, his _eye_, his only eye — and slumps down, and you don't turn around to face the witch.

You don't look at her, but you know she heard you, you know she's giving your back that strange look that sends chills down your spine, the look that means the price is a heavy one, the look that means you're not going to like what she will ask.

But you're still looking at his face, his white calm sleeping hurt face, and you know anything you can give is worth this.


	2. Chapter 2

The next one, since some people asked for it :D I was in Italy without much Internet access when chapter 125 came out ; I managed to read it at an Internet cafe, though, and wrote this afterwards, but I couldn't post it before coming back home. So yesss, I realize the suspense and "OMGWTF" feeling have kind of died down, but whatever _/shrug/_

**Warnings :** Chapter 125 spoilerful, like I said, as well as a minor reference to Kuro's past, but like they say, "blink and you'll miss it". Also, overuse of italics, and swearing (we all know why).

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Blood. She wants blood, red blood, vibrant, warm blood like the one that's dripping from his eye, flowing out of his face — faster and faster and faster. Blood like the one that's tainting the bandages, wetting the bed sheets, falling — drop — by — drop — on the floor. Blood like the one that's rushing through your veins, like the one you can feel beating, pulsing, pounding in your ears.

Blood for water (_your_ blood for _their_ water), water for life (_their_ water for _his_ life). You suppose it could be worse, but you know there's a catch, there's _always_ a catch with that witch.

And you're right, oh how you're right.

Your blood for his life.

Give him your blood and his life is yours, since _he_ no longer _wants_ it, give him your blood and as long as you're alive, he will be as well. Give him your blood and he'll live.

Give him your blood and he'll hate you.

Give him your blood and he'll become some kind of parasite, of monster, of _demon _(don't think of that, not now, of all times not _now_), a vampire bat that will suck your blood and your life until your death, until both your deaths.

Worse is, it's no metaphor — this is literally, exactly, pointedly what he'll become, and it'll be your fault.

(Are you sure ?)

You could never stand him after all. You could never stand him because he's such a coward, because he's always running away, because he gives up on his life without even trying. You could never stand him for the very reason he's _dying _now.

(Are you sure you can stand having him around forever ?)

Except that's not it. That's not it.

You hate it when he's fooling around, you hate it when he's smiling his stupid fake smiles, you hate it when he pretends to be happy, to be alright when you know everything's really wrong, wrong, wrong — you hate it — but you don't hate _him_.

You can't stand having him around for more than ten minutes, how _could_ you last a _lifetime_ — whether it be _your_ lifetime or _his _?

But that's not the question, that's _not the question_, damn it. Damn it all to Hell and back, but that's _not_ what it's all _about_.

(Can you stand _not_ having him around for your whole life ? Can you spend your _whole life _without seeing him again, _ever, ever, ever_ again ?)

Stop, he says, stop, but _he's_ the one who has to stop, _stop fucking dying _— he can't die,_ he can't,_ not now, not ever. Not as long as _you're_ alive.

He doesn't want you to save him, you know that, you know it perfectly well. So what ? _You _want to save him.

So it'll be your fault if he lives, it'll be your own damn fault if he hates you, but fuck, it's _your_ turn to be selfish now.

A life with him is better than without, no matter how long.

(Shut up.)

He looks at you, with his only eye and something that's screaming inside.

Your blood for his life, the witch says, but that's not it, really. You give your blood and he lives, yes. He lives, but the price is that he'll hate you for it.

You don't hate him, you don't, but _he_ will hate you.

(Shut up.)

"You're responsible for his life" can mean you'll have to take care of him forever, but to him, you know it will mean it's your fault that he's still alive.

_(SHUT UP !)_

But you save him anyway.


End file.
